


Falling for the First Time

by Pinkerton



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:57:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19466362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkerton/pseuds/Pinkerton
Summary: Usually, if someone falls off the roof of the Haus, it's Shitty.Except for when it's Kent Parson.A story of accidents, friendship, secrets, rivalries, and, maybe, love.





	1. Freshman Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cadenzamuse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadenzamuse/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Cadenzamuse, fellow fandom old! I ran with the idea of places where Bitty and Kent overlap, and kind of put Kent in and around major canon events of Year One and Two. Hope you enjoy.

There aren’t fairy tales where small Southern gay boys are rescued by a charming prince, or if there are, then they never made their way to the story hour at Madison County library, that’s for sure. 

Instead of stories of want and danger and rescue and romance, there are bullies and closets and college applications to kingdoms far, far away.

Bitty spends his first night in his dorm room alone, laughing and crying till he gets hiccups that won’t quit.

He rescued himself, thank you very much, and that’s the story on that. 

Three months later, he’s sobering up after a party at the Haus, washing the last of the dishes, too wired to go back to the dorms, when a loud blur crashes past the kitchen window and lands in the bushes with a thud.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” he says as he dries one last fork before heading out with a flashlight. 

He prods the edges of the bush with his foot.

It rustles at him.

“C’ mon, Shitty,” Bitty says, taking a step back. “Come out of the bushes and you can walk me home to sober up a lil, hmm?”

A figure stands up, and there’s just enough light coming from the kitchen window to tell that this definitely isn't Shitty.

Bitty swings his flashlight up. “Oh! Um. Hi?”

“Little lower with that thing?” The guy holds up his hand to block the light from his face.

Any questions Bitty had about how this guy ended up here vanish as he moves the beam of the flashlight from his beautiful face to his perfect, perfect abs.

As it turns out, in kingdoms far, far away from Madison, sometimes a handsome shirtless man falls from the roof at 2 am and needs to be lugged upstairs to Shitty’s thankfully empty room to sober up.

Sometimes that same man needs BItty to hold an ice pack on his ankle and put a plate of pie in his hand and pretend to not steal glances at his abs while he drunkenly rambles until he falls asleep.

His name is Kent, he has freckles across his nose, and he’s gone at sunrise.

* * * *

Bitty waves the note Kent left on the pillow as he sits down across from him at Jerry’s the next morning. “Who draws emoji, honestly?”

“Awesome people,” Kent says with conviction.

“Awesome people who fall off of strangers’ roofs in the middle of the night?”

“We’re a select group.” He closes the menu and leans back with one arm across the back of the booth. “You were totally dece to take care of me, brah.”

“Of course!” Bitty is going to ignore the way Kent’s arm muscles are moving as he picks at a patched up bit of vinyl. Bitty has managed to ignore the fine arms of many handsome boys over the years, and besides, Kent’s face is even more distracting.

Bitty fixes his eyes on the menu as if he isn’t just going to get French toast.

“But still --” Kent’s cut off by the waitress, orders pancakes, and gets enough chirping material out of how Bitty pronounces “syrup” to last till the food arrives.

“These are so good,” Kent says as he cuts into his short stack and spears a syrup-soaked forkful. “Wanna try?”

“No sir, my Moo Maw’s pancakes put those to shame.” Bitty gently smacks away Kent’s hand as he leans over the table and waves his loaded fork in his face.

He gives up easier than expected and eats the bite himself. “Whassa Moo Maw?” 

Talking with a full mouth shouldn’t be that charming, nor should the way having his full attention as Bitty details the perfection that is his family's recipe for cinnamon peach pancakes be so _distracting_. 

“So what you’re saying,” Kent pauses to suck syrup off his thumb, “is I should have stayed for breakfast in bed.”

“Oh, you hush.” Bitty can feel himself blushing.

“ _Huuuuush_ ,” Kent teases. “Shit, you’re cute.”

“I bet you say that to all the boys who drag you out of bushes in the middle of the night,” Bitty says, pushing his accent out.

“Nah, you’re cute and you know it.” Kent says. “Cute hair, cute nose, cute mouth, cute ass. Total package, babe.”

There’s nothing else for Bitty to do but turn a deeper shade of red and shove a bite of toast in his mouth before he says something truly mortifying about all his dreams coming true. 

He’s here, at Samwell, with a cute boy across from him who is definitely flirting with him, and it’s the furthest thing in the word from where he was a year ago.

He’s going to let Kent pay for breakfast.

He’s going to let Kent open the door for him on the way out.

He’s going let Kent put his hand at the small of his back and guide him around a group blocking the sidewalk, then not move it away, and he’s also going to let him lean in close to show Bitty something on his phone a couple of minutes later.

He’s waited for this kind of thing since he was 13 years old, and there’s nothing in the world that could ruin this morning.

Kent walks him up to the door of the Haus and Bitty starts laughing. “Oh my goodness, I should have told you I don’t actually live here.”

“But --” Kent scrunches his nose when he’s confused and it’s the cutest thing in the world.

“I was lingering after a party, and then you were in no state to get back to your place, so I thought -- well, anyway. My friend’s room was empty so it all worked out.”

“It really did,” Kent says, and everything goes slow and quiet as he smiles down at Bitty, and Bitty’s imagined his first kiss with a boy, but never with a man as handsome as Kent, and Kent takes a step forward, so Bitty does too, and --

\-- the front door opens and they startle enough to break the mood even before Jack crosses his arms and glares at them.

“Parson.”

“Hey, Jack.” Kent’s eyes flash as he looks from Bitty to Jack. 

“Probably time to head back to your own team, wouldn’t you say?” he reaches out and claps Bitty on the shoulder. “Bittle has practice.”

“Yeah,” Kent says. “Guess so. Anyway, it was great meeting you, Bitty.” 

As he walks off the porch he adjusts his snapback, the morning sun lighting up the Samwell Lacrosse logo embroidered above the bill.

* * * *

“Jack, I swear, I didn’t know --”

Jack takes off his helmet. “I believe you, Bittle.”

“Nothing happened!” Bitty wanted to clear this up earlier, but Jack had pushed past him on the porch to go on his morning run, turning left, away from the path Kent was taking back to the lacrosse frat. 

“It’s fine. Can we scrimmage?” Jack snaps his helmet back into place, and Bitty skates after him.

* * * *

_Kent: Hi_

_Eric: Hello, Samwell Men’s Lacrosse Captain_

_Kent: My secret identity_

_Eric: I’ve heard stories about you and your kind_

_Kent: That’s homophobic_

_Eric: You know what I mean!_

_Kent: I know, Eric Bittle #15 right wing._

_Kent: Maybe we could text if we don’t talk about sports?_

_Eric: No sports? What else is there?_

_Kent: You know. Ariana Grande. Hair pomade. Gains. Gay shit._

_Eric: What about Beyonce, bath bombs, and pie?_

_Kent: ...continue._

* * * *

They text a little, now and then. Flirty, light, fun. They overlap in the weird way the athletes on college do, one coming into the gym as the other leaves, being led into rooms on the opposite ends of hallways for medical exams and conditioning, eying the door to the back of the cafeteria as they wait to pounce on the next pan of chicken tenders that comes out. 

Sure, something might have been. Maybe. 

Bitty doesn’t know for certain. 

Things are fine, though. Bitty plays hockey, and studies less than he should, and bakes more than he should, and he’s having a pretty damn good time at college, all told.

* * * *

“Bittle. It was a lucky shot.”

* * * *

Things aren’t fine.

* * * * 

“‘Lo?” Kent’s voice is thick with sleep, which makes sense since it’s 7 am on a Sunday, a sacred college sleeping time. 

“I hate him,” Bitty says softly. “Jack. I hate him.”

“Are you --” there are some rustling sounds, and Bitty feels really bad about waking Kent up. “Are you okay? Wait, nevermind, dumb question. What time is --- god. Fuck.”

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry.” Bitty hangs up.

* * * *

“S’up?” Kent’s wearing a green flannel and the same hat as he was when they met. He’s taller than Bitty remembers, even slouched against the wall outside of his stats class, and he smells amazing.

“Uh, hi?”

Kent reaches out to take Bitty’s books, then turns heel and walks down the hall and out the door. 

When Bitty catches up, he’s already in the driver's seat of a very illegally parked BMW. “Get in the car, loser. We’re going shopping.” 

Bitty hesitates.

Kent leans on the horn.

“Oh my god, stop!” When he settles into the passenger’s side, Kent hands him a pumpkin spice latte. 

He raises up his own. “Cheers, queers.”

Bitty clinks the rims together and laughs. 

* * * *

Bitty waltzes into the Haus that night, ten minutes late for team Mario Kart, a shopping bag in each hand and a brand new pair of almost-designer sunglasses he decides look too good to take off. 

He knocks Jack off the Rainbow Road three times and is on his way to doing it again when Jack gives up and heads to bed. 

* * * *

The rest of the semester, on Wednesdays, he and Kent do not wear pink, but they do hang out off-campus, at book stores and diners, and, memorably, a long afternoon in Salem. Kent bought a love charm and refused to tell Bitty who it was for. Bitty bought an energy cleansing crystal and lobbed it straight at Kent’s head when they left the store.

His afternoons with Kent aren’t always the highlight of his week. After all, sometimes the cafeteria has baked mac and cheese, made with love by someone who clearly knows what they’re doing. 

If there’s no mac and cheese, then, yeah. Kent wins that one. 

* * * * 

Bitty comes out to his teammates, survives a holiday back in Madison, and spends most of the spring chirping Kent for being jealous of his new friendship with Lardo. Their schedules are a mess, so they manage coffee once or twice a month and get by on texting and snap chatting like crazy. Bitty manages to go to two of Kent's games. He sits in the back with his hat pulled low, texting Kent a list of questions about the rules and honestly, was that move even legal and how can he get a word with that ref, because clearly -- 

Kent's responses later are 90% emoji, and 10% videos and links to lacrosse rules.

They text even more the next few weeks as Bitty's season starts to wrap up, and he clings to those messages like a lifeline as Samwell heads to into the championship. The last thing he does before putting his phone away before the semi-final is to send Kent a locker room selfie.

As the team skates onto the ice, someone waving like a lunatic in the stands gets his attention.

It’s Kent, decked out in a Samwell hockey shirt, screaming his fool head off. 

Bitty’s breath catches in his throat. 

Kent about pitches forward into the next row in his enthusiasm.

Oh, this is bad. 

Oh, shit. 

He’s totally in love with Kent Parson. 

Well.

He’s gonna have to worry about that after the game.

The ref holds the puck up, and Bitty crouches, waiting to take the snap from Jack.

* * * *

_Kent: FUUCKKK_

_Kent: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK_

_Kent: PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE OK_

* * * *

_Missed call from Kent Parson 7:34pm_

_Missed call from Kent Parson 10:43pm_

_Missed call from Kent Parson 11:15pm_


	2. Summer and Sophomore Year

_Late May_

“I dunno,” Bitty sighs. “It’s not as good as Night Vale.”

“Yeah,” Kent agrees. “Maybe we should try a different one?”

“I miss YouTube.” He looks longingly at his closed laptop. “Jack recommended some NPR pods.”

“Hmmm. I mean --”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna either.”

“Lemme ask the boys’ group chat if they have any recommendations -- hold on.” There’s an indistinct noise in the background of the call. “Shit, sorry, coach is moving our strategy meeting up.”

“Go, make a lanyard or something.”

That gets a genuine snort from Kent. “Yeah, that’s what lacrosse camp is all about. Lanyards.”

* * * *

_Early June_

“Kent Parson, I can look at screens if I darn well choose to, you send me those pictures from that party immediately!” 

“Dunno,” Kent says. “Lutzy got pretty naked.”

“Oh my god.” Bitty’s been trolling Kent’s immaculately curated Instagram for evidence of what sounded like a rager with his summer conditioning bros. Nada.

Kent is holding out on him.

“Carl got pretty naked, too.”

“Gross.” Bitty does not need that mental image, thank you very much. He hesitates just a second. “And you?”

“Aww, Bittsy Boo, you want nudes you just ask.”

“Hanging up now!”

* * * *

_July_

“Are you sure?” 

“You can’t see me rolling my eyes, but I swear, I am completely cleared for using all manner of screens and media. Do you want a doctor’s note?"

“Yes,” Kent says without hesitation. “Your brain is important.”

“Guess so, considering I still have to finish college." Bitty heaves a dramatic sigh. "It's been so long, I think I forgot how to text.”

Kent snorts. “I doubt that. But, you know. Maybe we could stay with the phone calls?”

“Or,” Bitty taps on his phone. 

The screen fills with Kent’s face. He’s smiling. 

“Hi.”

* * * *

It’s not a date when Bitty takes Kent to Faber and finds out he can already skate, and that, in fact, he’s close to as fast as Bitty is.

It’s not a date when they watch a movie marathon the day before Halloween, Bitty smuggled into Kent’s room and curled up next to him, fingers brushing together as they eat kettle corn. 

And it’s definitely not a date when Bitty video chats Kent through making a pie one weekend when he’s home in Albany for his sister’s birthday. 

It turns out ugly as sin, but since it vanishes in one night, it must taste pretty good. 

He aches as he watches Kent scrub out the pie plate on the tiny screen of his phone, his sister and family wandering in and out of view, waving at Bitty as they come and go. He wants to have Kent like that in the kitchen at the Haus, bumping into him while he fixes dinner, stealing pieces of veggies off the cutting board and bothering Bitty with a million questions about what he's doing.

He wants to know what it’s like to kiss him, to have him in his room, in his bed, his sheets smelling like him, his toothbrush hanging in the bathroom and his shirts left behind for Bitty to snuggle up with when Kent's not there. 

He lets himself imagine that Kent feels the same way, every now and then. But mostly, it's enough to be friends.

Until it isn’t.

* * * *

He watches Kent leave Jack’s room during Epikegster and walk straight past him as Bitty calls his name, louder and louder the further he gets down the hall, till he vanishes down the stairs.

Bitty's texts and calls go ignored.

The lax bros won’t let him in their frat.

He's shaking when he gets on the plane to Georgia, knowing that when he turns his phone back on in a few hours, there still won't be a return message from his alleged best friend.

Bitty’s not sure how he ends up spending his Christmas break heartbroken over a boy he wasn’t even dating, but he does.

It’s New Year’s Day when a thought hits him like lightning.

He opens up his browser and types “Jack Zimmermann Kent Parson” into Google.

Well, shit.

* * * *

It’s crisp and cold and absolutely the wrong time for Bitty to lean on his hockey stick and ask Jack, “You and Kent, huh?”

“Oh.” They’re standing side by side, taking a breather while the boys keep the shinny going. “What did he say?” 

“Nothing. Put two and two together and googled y’all. Former teammates times two, huh?”

Jack sighs.

“What happened?” Bitty’s run a million scenarios through his mind about how Jack and Kent could have gone from sitting in each other’s laps at parties to shouting matches at parties.

“The short version? We played hockey in the winter and lacrosse in the summer. Had to pick one or the other eventually.” 

“And you’re....still mad at each other?”

“It was --” Jack’s eyes follow the puck as Chowder knocks it away from the goal “ -- a little more complicated than that. We owe each other a lot of apologies.”

“Oh.”

“He was my best friend.” Jack bumps Bitty with his elbow. “C’mon. Let’s play.”

Bitty trails after him as they go back on the ice. 

* * * *

_Bitty: You could have told me about you and Jack._

_Kent: Could I have?_

_Bitty: That’s the first text you send me in almost a month?????_

_Kent: I miss you._

_Bitty: Me or him?_

_Kent: Both_

_Bitty: You owe me an apology._

_Kent: Yeah. Well._

_Bitty: …._

* * * *

On Groundhog Day a pie with a lopsided, slightly burned crust is left on the Haus porch.

* * * *

_Bitty: A pie is not an apology._

_Kent: Tastes better._

_Bitty: How old are you?_

_BItty: ???_

_Bitty: Kent?_

_* * * *_

Kent starts liking his Instagram posts again in March. 

* * * *

_Kent: Ok. I miss you._

_Bitty: Were you ever going to tell me you used to play hockey?_

_Kent: Probably. Can I see you?_

Bitty stops, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard.

_Bitty: What happened at the party?_

_Bitty: Kent????????????_

* * * *

Samwell wins.

And wins again.

And keeps winning.

Until they don’t.

* * * *

It took a while for Jack to stop crying, and he still hasn’t said a word, but Bitty got him up and back to the locker room, and that’s something, isn’t it?

When he digs into his bag for his deodorant, his fingers brush against stiff paper.

It’s a card with a sleeping cat on the front and a short note on the inside.

_I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I need to tell you some things, but Jack has to be ok with it, and if you're too mad at me to want to deal with that, I get it. I'm mad at me too. xoxoxo_

Lord.

Bitty glances across the room where Jack is sniffling as he packs up.

Not happening tonight. 

* * * *

They’re on the roof of Faber, and Jack’s dozing on and off on his shoulder. 

“Jack,” Bitty says softly.

“Yeah?”

“I have a weird thing to ask.”

Jack laughs, quiet and low. “Try me.”

“Well, you know that Kent and I were friendly.” He really should have thought this through more.

Jack shifts beside him. “Were?”

“We haven’t been in touch much since Epikegster.”

“Oh.” Jack moves so that he can see Bitty’s face. “That... wasn't my best night. I didn’t really notice if you and he --”

“He walked out of your room and past me like I didn’t exist after calling me every day all summer and -- well, anyway. He says he needs to tell me some things but I need to ask you first?”

“Huh.” The light flickering off Jack’s face catches his cheekbones just right. He’s so stupidly handsome.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Bitty starts, but Jack is already pulling out his phone.

He taps out a text, pauses. “He must really like you, Bittle. If he told you to ask me.”

Bitty scoffs. “He hasn’t spoken to me in months.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, then Jack's phone buzzes.

Jack's brows furrow as he reads his screen, then he looks back up at Bitty. “He and I used to date,” Jack says.

“...I’m sorry?” Surely Bitty is hearing wrong.

“He and I were together. Before I picked hockey over lacrosse. He took it really personally.”

“Oh.” Bitty’s head is spinning. “I -- oh.”

“So, I think maybe if you know that, he can tell you some other stuff?” Jack scratches at his neck. “Hard to know what happens in that head of his.”

“So the party --”

Jack closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall. “We were on and off again for a long time. The party was the first time I'd seen him since -- huh. Since your freshman year, I guess.”

“The first time I met him was --," Bitty's mind is going a thousand miles an hour piecing together things. "Jack, I have so many questions.”

“Gonna have to ask Kent.”

They sit on the roof till morning, and the sunrise is absolutely gorgeous.

* * * *

It’s the night before graduation, and the Haus feels too empty with Ransom and Holster out at a party and Shitty and Jack at their parents’ hotels. 

Bitty’s halfway to sleep where there’s a knock at his window.

He doesn’t shriek, but it’s a near thing. He shines his phone’s flashlight out the window, and Kent’s eyes are all he can see.

“Lord, you scared me half to death,” he says as he hauls him in.

“Hi, Bitty, I --”

“No.” Bitty sits on his bed and gestures at his desk chair. “Are you here for me or for him?”

“You.” Kent sits down, his hands on his knees.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He’s so beautiful. Bitty still wants him, even if he spent the precious last months of his senior year completely ignoring him.

Bitty probably still loves him, really.

Kent’s drumming his fingers on his legs. “I’m sorry, Eric.”

“Oh, goodness. My Christian name.” 

“Seems like the occasion.” The hopeful smile on his face is an echo of the smirk Bitty’s missed so much.

Bitty shakes his head. “You gonna apologize?” 

“Bits, I’m so sorry, and I really hope you believe me.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“For -- “ Kent sighs. “For cutting you out. I freaked out, okay? I realized that I was going to graduate, and my plans for after college had always had Jack in them, and for the first time --” he trails off.

“For the first time,” Bitty prompts.

“They started to have you in them.”

“Oh,” Bitty gasps. “Honey. But -- Kent, if that's true, the way you treated me --"

“I know. I'm so, so sorry.“ He runs his hands through his hair. “I really messed up that night. I had to make sure I was right? Or something? So I had to talk to Jack. And it went --”

“Not great?” Bitty offers.

“Yeah. Bitty, I was so in love with him.”

It hurts to hear. But, Bitty thinks he’s catching the important part. “Was?”

“Yes.” Kent stands up.

“And now?” Bitty says, barely above a whisper.

Kent moves to sit next to Bitty. “Now it’s you.”

His hand is so warm as he guides Bitty’s face to his, and his lips are soft and gentle. It's as perfect a first kiss as Bitty has ever imagined.

When they pull apart, he feels dazed. “Oh, gosh. Can you do that again?”

Kent does. 

* * * *

They wake up the next morning entwined, taking up every inch of Bitty’s twin bed. “Hey, look at you,” Kent says, smiling at Bitty as he runs his fingers through his hair.

Bitty smiles back. “Hi, baby.”

“I gotta go graduate.” 

“You do.” Bitty kisses him on the nose. “Leaving right after?”

Kent shakes his head. “Tomorrow.”

“Come back and see me tonight?”

“You can count on it.”

“Maybe come in through the door, this time?”

“And mess with tradition?” Kent kisses him, long and deep, and if they get started like this again he’s definitely going to miss his own graduation.

He makes a sad face when Bitty gently pushes him away. “Why?”

“Go graduate, Mr. Parson. Then come back to me, okay?”

Kent gets out of bed, then leans back down to give Bitty one more kiss. “I’ll come in through the window.”

“You really don’t have to!” Bitty yells at him as he leaves. 

He does, anyway.


End file.
